Veronica's Secret
by Wicked-Minds
Summary: Where did Veronica get the idea for her outfit? Did a trader stiff her in a deal? Was she unable to resist a shopping bonanza at the Zanga mall? Was a wardrobe lady with TV ratings on her mind hiding in the bushes? And how does Tarzan fit in?


Veronica's Secret  
By Wicked Minds

Disclaimer: Characters depicted are not owned by us. Couldn't figure that one out by yourselves, huh? Bet if we didn't tell you we don't make a cent off of this you wouldn't know that either? And now you're probably wondering why we even write this stuff then.

**_Authors' note:_**

"_Hush, don't be so crabby!"_  
"_Yeah, we're about to delve into a crucial part of plateau lore."_

Synopsis: Where did Veronica get the idea for her outfit? Did a trader stiff her in a deal? Was she unable to resist a shopping bonanza at the Zanga mall? Did her mother give her more than a convenient amnesia the day she left? Was a wardrobe lady with TV ratings on her mind hiding nearby when she went to get dressed?

_So, Sherman, set the Wayback Machine for a couple of years before the explorers arrive on the plateau. The year is 1917. The place is an Amazon village on a mysterious plateau in South America. A young girl is about to venture from this village of relative safety to live on her own……_

Young Veronica, all of eighteen, completed her preparations to leave the Amazon village permanently. She was dressed in loose drawstring trousers with a rather crude tunic top belted at the waist. The dun-coloured garments hung rather shapelessly on her. The haphazard stitching was apparent. There was nothing to hint at any signs of female pulchritude.

She adjusted her belt and smiled proudly. "My first attempt at sewing. Not bad, if I may say so myself. Painter, fighter and now accomplished seamstress."

She glanced at the sky. "I should be in time to meet Danu. Anyway, he'll wait for me." The last thought was murmured confidently. She hadn't missed how he had eyed her these past few months when she would slip away from the Amazons. Even the fact she was wearing the typical Amazon leathers didn't bother him.

She was getting bored with the Amazonian attitude towards men. Procreational tools and cannibal food – that's what men were to them. Although Veronica's memories were a bit sketchy at times, she had an inkling that her mother had a different view of men and of Veronica's father in particular. No, Veronica was determined to find out, whether there was more to men than the Amazons believed. And when she met Danu, bathing naked at a pond, she got her chance to intensify her studies. Danu was smitten immediately. No doubt because her first reaction to his flirtation was to play coy and then smack him down. How could he resist? She'd have to keep that in mind for future love interests.

And tonight he was going to escort her home. Even when you were an expert, as Veronica was proud of being, traveling through the jungle was always safer in groups.

Veronica watched as the Amazon leader turned from a conversation with Hippolyta and strolled imperiously over to where the jungle girl stood by the village gates.

Selena gave a disparaging look at the new garments Veronica wore. "I don't know how you'll fight in those, Veronica. Why don't you take a set of the leathers the warriors wear?"

"I'm not an Amazon, Selena. If I wear those clothes people will think I am." Her breathless, squeaky voice was grating even to her own ears. _'I really should take voice lessons from that lizard acting coach that visited last month. My voice doesn't match my strong personality'_, the jungle girl pondered.

Selena considered trying to convince her to stay. She wasn't quite sure why Veronica was important. Their previous leader, Diana, had died before revealing what was significant about the girl. Diana had quite a few gaps in management skills, including a total lack in adequate preparation of her successor.

But there was one point that was unarguable. Did she really want someone who sounded like a child being mistaken for an Amazon simply because she was wearing the proud costume of an Amazon warrior? "As you wish, Veronica."

When those strange people in the balloon had landed with Veronica in the village , they only told Selena she should keep Veronica until she was ready to return home. The woman in the tacky golden dress had mumbled something about the Protector, honour and duty, and some guy who was named Ava Tars. But instead of elaborating and explaining herself properly, she had just shoved Veronica into Selena's arms and off they went.

Selena sometimes wondered whether the woman in the golden dress hadn't noshed from the same magic mushrooms that she sometimes used. They provided insightful hallucinations, or rather visions, as she told her followers, but had a few strange side effects. Selena often developed a predilection for middle-aged, red-haired men, when she was under the influence and her warriors were always concerned when that happened. Middle-aged red-heads weren't exactly common on the plateau.

'_Mushrooms or not, she dumped her kid here and I had to deal with it,'_ Selena grumbled to herself.

Veronica was a nice enough kid, albeit not exactly precocious, Selena thought , then sighed inwardly. _'We tried to teach her fighting skills and how to treat men, let's hope she makes the best of it and doesn't embarrass the proud Amazon tribe. Or comes back too soon.'_

Veronica left the village with her head held high, ready to conquer the world or at least a bit of the plateau. She didn't have to travel far before she met Danu in their usual prearranged spot.

"Veronica!" Danu called out excitedly as she approached. He had worked out for days, wrestling with dinosaurs, to make sure his muscles were bulging in a most impressive manner. A little oil to emphasise his masculine physique was the piece de resistance. He was sure she'd be dazzled by his looks.

But his welcoming smile turned to a frown as he took in her appearance. "What's this?" He gestured at her rather shabby attire. "What did you do to yourself?" He thought for a minute. At their last meeting she had mentioned that she'd soon have a big surprise for him, but his heated mind had expected something entirely different. Why would a woman hide her best attributes in such a manner? "Is this some kind of silly bet about who can look the worst?"

"What's wrong with how I look?" Veronica demanded shrilly, deeply hurt that her first foray into designing was so unappreciated. "I created this outfit myself. Not only that, I also chose the fabrics and sewed it. Are you saying it's not fabulous, flattering and fetching? Why if someone was to review all the different clothing styles on the plateau, I bet this would certainly be in the top ten."

"Well, not that I'm a fashion expert or anything, but I have to say I rather preferred you in your Amazon outfit." Danu shuddered inwardly. _'I know I said I'd marry her, but if I hang around with her looking like that, I'll be the laughing stock of the plateau.'_

"Excuse ME! When I wore my Amazon outfit you told me the men in your tribe were scared of me, they were worried I'd feed them to the cannibals."

Danu shuffled his feet and ducked his head. "True enough, but a few minutes with a hot looking Amazon might be worth being fed to the cannibals. Besides my buddies were impressed that I'd risk everything for a hot looking chick."

Veronica's lower lip stuck out and her eyes narrowed. Danu recognised the signs. Just like the first time they met, it was only a matter of time, before she would try to beat him up. And the odds were good that she succeeded. Damn those Amazon fighting techniques! He considered his options. He really couldn't abandon her right now. If he got her to the treehouse, he could leave her there and then take off with his tribe. Being a nomad had its advantages. A girl in every enclave. Now the problem was how to stop her raging temper until he could get away.

Inspiration struck the young nomad warrior. "Don't be mad, Veronica. Look at what I brought for you!" He held out a tattered book. It obviously had been exposed to the jungle weather.

"Where did you get this, Danu?"

"I found it with some other things, packs and a blanket. It looks like the raptors got to the owner first. The other stuff was pretty badly shredded but I thought you might like this. You said your parents had a lot of books.'

Veronica took the book and read the title. "Tarzan of the Apes, Edgar Rice Burroughs." The pages were stiff, but she saw the date 1914. "This is just a few years old. Whoever had this must be new to the plateau."

"They're certainly not going to be old to the plateau. The raptors saw to that. Come on, let's get you home." Danu was glad to see his distraction worked. A few hours more and he could head back to his tribe's camp.

Avoiding the topic of clothes, the trip went by peacefully, while the two young people chatted about pleasant subjects, like raptor hunting, man-eating plants and which head-hunters on the plateau should be avoided at all cost. Danu cheerfully waved good-bye as Veronica got on the elevator. "I'll be back soon, Veronica. I'm sure my tribe will be back in your neighborhood in no time at all." He assured Veronica as he crossed his fingers behind his back.

He tossed his head as he said to himself. "As IF! Sorry, Veronica, but I got my reputation to consider as one of the hottest plateau dating prospects. I can't afford to hang around someone who doesn't know how to make the most of her assets. I think I'll go with my buddies to that hot party at the Valley of the Shadows that they heard about. I can't pass up a dare like that and still be known as a kick-ass warrior."

After Danu left, Veronica wandered around her treehouse. She knew that it hadn't been that long she'd been gone. She had only had a brief stay with the Amazons, why did it feel like years and years had past since she'd been here?

Eventually she tried to settle down to sleep. Yawning, she picked up the book Danu had given her. "For someone who promised to marry me, he sure didn't want to stick around." Disgusted, she opened the book and read a little. She kinda liked the part about the apes taking care of a baby, in a jungle. Her eyes grew heavy. The day had been long and soon she nodded off.

Veronica awoke to see a tall, muscular man standing in front of her. No chest hair marred her view of his impressive physique. His shoulders and arms were well muscled, trim. His impressive thighs were well defined; his feet were bare. The only garment he wore was a brief leather wrap around his lean waist. A sheathed hunting knife rested teasingly against his skin that the brief gap in his garment revealed. Not an ounce of fat was to be seen. His body was firm and hard. Clearly, he had a superior abs program.

The eyes in his clean-shaven face studied her. His hair was longish, tousled. His hands were large. Veronica noted this with interest. The Amazons had plenty of thoughts about what size of a man's hands reflects. It was enough to make her think about abandoning her plan of saving herself for someone special. Someone who'd be a giant among men. Veronica's next thought was he certainly cast Danu in the shade.

"Me, Tarzan. You, Veronica." Her visitor's voice was firm as he first thumped his chest and then pointed at Veronica.

_**Authors' note:**_  
"_He can't say that. That's not how Tarzan talked in the book."_  
"_But how many readers of our fics know that. Haven't you still figured out that they watch classic movies and TV shows, but don't necessarily read the classics? Just like we do. Besides this is more fun."  
« Mais c'est affreux, cette language! Peut-être Tarzanpeut parler Francais, vraiment, c'etait son premier langue? » _  
" _No! Now just be quiet and let's get on with the story."_

Veronica grunted several times, first sounding out Beethoven and then moving to Chopin. She then tried Bach, but ended up grinding her teeth in frustration. Clearly her Bach was worse than her bite.

Tarzan watched her with a puzzled frown. Looking around, his expression lightened. He grabbed some fruit from the table. "Eat. Food." He ordered imperiously.

"Not a music lover?" Veronica sniffed.

"Not like classics. Especially poorly grunted classics. Like new American jazz. Has roots in styles of African tribal music."

Veronica decided not to take offense at the criticism of her musical renditions. Especially since she had no idea what this jazz was he mentioned. Too bad parts of her parents' library had burned down, when the candles on Assai's birthday cake had started a little fire a few years ago.

The first thing to do was to find out more about her new visitor. "Why are you dressed like that?" She waved her hand in the general direction of her guest.

"Apeman," Tarzan stated proudly. "No can dress like frump. Wear dowdy clothes." He pointed at her garments. "Monkeys laugh. Fall out of trees. Tarzan run into trouble with PETA."

"What do you call that?" Veronica gestured at the brief leather garment the extremely well-built man wore.

"Loincloth. Protect Tarzan. When swing on vines, nothing else should swing."

_**Authors' note:**_  
"_You just had to get that in there, didn't you?"_  
"_Hey, it's a valid point."_  
"_You know what this is going to do to our ratings?"_  
"_Shoot them through the roof, I'd think."_  
"_The truth must prevail! When a man swings on a vine—__"_  
"_Let's not get into that and continue with the story!"_

Veronica considered the point. "Wouldn't longer pants be more protection?"

"Long pants get in way. Fight crocodiles, need freedom of movement." The apeman spoke from long experience.

"Don't you mean caimans?" Veronica corrected, anxious to show off her vast knowledge of flora and fauna.

"Africa has crocodiles." Tarzan was very sure of himself. "Tarzan get A in Mbonga geography."

Veronica nodded. "So this loincloth is pretty practical?"

"Leather good fashion statement. Not tear quick. When Numa swipe, claws not hit family jewels."

"Family jewels?" Veronica inquired.

"Can't be sure of finding baby. Might have to improvise."

"Finding baby?" Veronica was quite confused.

"Best way to have baby. Woman keep figure."

Veronica nodded. Good to keep in mind. Next time she came across an abandoned baby, she'd just hang on to it instead of passing it onto villagers who knew what they were doing.

Tarzan added, "Mbonga warrior who lead other warriors teach about loincloth. He hand out loincloths to warriors. Tell them 'You wanna to get to know and love your loincloth. It may save your life."

Veronica nodded impressed with this wisdom. "Did he say anything else?"

Tarzan thought for a moment. "He said 'In battle, short guys behind rocks, tall guys behind trees'."

"Could you help me make one of ….those loincloths?" Veronica felt the urge to expand her sewing experience. And she realised there could be an additional benefit. Danu's abrupt departure, lacking any mention of their marital plans, had left her angry and dissatisfied. Had he rejected her because he thought she was unattractive in her new outfit? She couldn't have that! Future suitors would be dazzled by her in a way that leaving her became out of the question.

This loincloth look ought to make all men sit up and take notice. Once a man was under her spell again, then she could reject him to her heart's content. She'd tell him that it was better to be just friends. Yes, this was a good plan!

Tarzan nodded.

With a little work they soon had a loincloth ready for Veronica. She came out of her room her hips ensconced in the brief garment.

"How do I look?" She pirouetted.

"Try vine swinging." Tarzan suggested.

"I've not done much of that? How does it work?"

"Take vine. Stand on tree branch. Jump from tree. Vine not too long. Else hit ground hard. Monkeys, tigers laugh."

"Tigers? You told me you were from Africa. There are no tigers in Africa. I thought you said you got an A in geography." Veronica objected.

"Tarzan get A. Edgar Rice Burroughs not so hot!"

_**Authors' note:**_  
"_Getting yet another dig in."_  
"_It's our raison d'être."_  
"_Good thing, he's dead. You know how sensitive some writers are, when you criticise their work."_

In a nearby tree, Veronica firmly grasped a vine. She hesitated and then jumped. Tarzan winced as she collided with the opposite tree.

"Tarzan forgot to say watch where you swing." The apeman called out helpfully.

A few more tries and a few more mishaps occurred. At one point, Veronica ended up hanging midway between two trees a little to far from the ground to jump.

"Tarzan, can you give me a hand?" Veronica called desperately.

"Hold on. Tarzan on another vine."

The plateau visitor hung up the vine he was using and selected another. With a truly athletic swing that displayed his muscles to great advantage, not to mention his delectable rear-end, he pulled her to safety.

"How did you learn to do this, Tarzan?" Veronica clung to his broad shoulder as they perched safely on a tree limb.

"Heard it through the grapevine."

_**Authors' note:**_  
"_Will you two stop dancing around! We've got a story to finish."_

Then he showed her how to judge the best of vines and how to measure distances and swing rates, although he gave up on teaching her trigonometry.

"Very important." Tarzan spoke sternly, making sure his young protégé was paying attention. "Tree with vine must be solid. Don't go to hollow wood and vine!"

_**Authors' note:**  
sigh_  
"_Why are you rubbing the bridge of your nose?"_

Eventually Veronica did get the hang of it. Tarzan nodded his approval. "Veronica now real swinger."

"_Great!"_ thought Veronica. _"I can teach Danu, and we can have a party vine."_

_**Authors' note:**_  
"_You want to stop with the puns."_  
"_Spoilsport."_  
"_No really. It's flogging a dead horse."_  
"_As in hung like—__"_  
"_Oh, DO shut up!"_

However Veronica noticed another problem as she glanced down at her chest. "These vines are giving me a rash!"

Tarzan looked from Veronica's chest to his and back again. He frowned. "Veronica not built like Tarzan." He thought for a moment. "Need loincloth for chest."

Luckily there was some leather left, although not very much. It took a bit more work, cleavage is a tricky business. Somewhere off in the distance, beyond some ripples in the air Veronica could have sworn she heard someone saying, "I dreamed I was a jungle princess in my Maidenform bra." But by this time Veronica was used to ignoring strange phenomena on the plateau. A little later Veronica was modeling a new top.

Tarzan nodded his approval. "Good. Now Veronica protected against nasty chest rash." Tarzan assessed the garments again. "Maybe Hays' censors not complain. Veronica can be on American TV. Not need acting lessons. She natural. Will need regular workouts though.."

Veronica was pretty satisfied herself. _"This is even skimpier than what the Amazons wear. Wait until Danu sees me in this." _ Unfortunately, Veronica had no way of knowing that Danu had hightailed it out with his tribe and wouldn't be back for a number of years. Unfortunately AFTER he had been to a dynamite party at the Valley of the Shadows.

"Say, what about footwear? Shouldn't you wear boots" Veronica looked at Tarzan's bare feet.

"Tarzan good swimmer! Boots hold water. Bare feet grip tree branch."

"But I'll ruin my pedicure if I go barefoot!"

"Try sandals. If sandals not work, try boots."

Veronica thought for a moment and then offered an idea. "Sandals with some straps up the calves might look pretty sexy."

"Good choice. Jungle not excuse for unprepossessing appearance." Tarzan looked at the fading light. "Tarzan must leave."

"Don't you want me to go with you?" Veronica asked demurely. She had no intention of going, but it was nice to be asked and then tell the man that she wouldn't leave without finding her parents.

Tarzan shook his head. "Tarzan have thing for brunettes."

"Actually I am-," Veronica stopped herself from finishing the sentence. No need to tell the man her own deep-rooted secrets.

Her eyes closed as Tarzan's image dissolved into thin air. She sighed. These men of action were too hard to keep, maybe she should go after the nerdier types. She would be exotic to them. She smiled to herself at the thought. A writer or a composer maybe? _"Just so long as he has great abs. After all, I have standards to maintain."_

A moment later, Veronica's eyes opened up. She was lying in bed, wrapped in a sheet. The book Danu gave her lay on the floor by the bed. "Wow, what a weird dream. Mother's anti-insomnia tea is stronger than I remember." Then Veronica's eyes lit upon the leather outfit lying nearby.

She's been wearing it ever since.

The End

**Authors' Notes:**  
"_Well, go ahead finish up the background stuff."_  
"_Sheesh, you are a nag!"_  
"_Let me. You're taking forever. Tarzan of the Apes as depicted here owes more to Johnny Weissmuller than Edgar Rice Burroughs, but we had more fun with it this way."_  
"_Always our prime consideration in literary choices!"_

"_You also may have noticed a bit of a nod to George of the Jungle as well as George Carlin's Indian Sergeant bit."_  
"_We're not proud, we'll steal from anyone."_  
"_Not to mention the incomparable Peabody's Improbable History."_  
"_It seemed appropriate."_

"_Also, we had to get our digs into the incomparable Fashion Plateau"_  
"_Naturally after the editor was going to sue us for using Joe the Raptor in a fic."_  
"_Hey, revenge is sweet."_  
"_The Fashion Plateau can be found at: of course the dig at the Hays Office for the trouble they gave the Tarzan movies as well as modern day censors. If you want to know what Hollywood had to hide to protect the viewers' innocence from 1930 – 1968 check out this site.  
  
_

"_Or our will to educate the readers."_  
"_Yeah, right!"_


End file.
